Over The Threshold
by ThePossibilityOfMagic
Summary: They say that when one door closes, another opens. After over three years of missed chances and closed doors, Castle and Beckett know that all that it comes down to is the wait- waiting for the right door at the right time.


_Hey, kids. Long time no see._

_As you may know, I haven't been able to post in quite a while; turns out that life as a junior doctor doesn't leave much time for ficwriting (I know, I'm as shocked as you are!) but I have still been working on pieces here and there, and I really do hope to be able to complete them and share them all with you someday. But for now, here's a little something that came about when I decided to just sit down and write, with no plan and no direction in mind. I'm going to dedicate this one to my lovely Oshi (castlebeckettftw on Tumblr) for reminding me that even a single person's appreciation makes what I do worthwhile._

_Anyways, I hope you like it._

_Disclaimer: Every fan knows that Castle belongs to Andrew Marlowe, not me._

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><p>He hadn't meant to end up here.<p>

It wasn't like this kind of spontaneous visit was unprecedented; he'd shown up at her apartment more times that he could count, and on most such occasions his intrusions into her personal life had been received with welcome, or at least with tolerance.

Yet this visit was different.

He couldn't give any clear reason or justification as to why it should be so; no eloquent explanation for his actions. It was simply a feeling, an unidentifiable and inexplicable pull that lured him to trade the warmth and comfort of his loft for the awkwardness and uncertainty of standing upon her familiar doorstep without even a flimsy excuse to account for his presence there.

Even as he stood, poised to knock, the strange sense of restlessness still gripped him, making him feel like he was standing in the middle of an unfamiliar city with no map and no idea which way was home.

The raised fist slowly lowered; the shoulders slumping in submission as he once again managed to remind himself that this was not his place, that this was never going to be where he belonged. For him, it would forever be like his personal museum, a private place full of treasures that he could only look at, never touch. He knew it, just as he knew that he would never be able to stop coming back.

Not while it was hers.

It was a simple truth that he'd realized long ago, an inescapable fact that told him just that– that he would never escape. Kate was his oasis; he would run to her like a dying man in a desert, chasing a dream until he was left exhausted and weak, crawling toward a mirage that he would never reach.

With a deep sigh, Castle turned away, taking his first step on the solitary journey home, leaving behind the only true home he'd ever known.

###

She would have never thought that she'd come to know a door so well.

She'd long ago lost count of how many times she'd ended up here, always returning to this spot like a child to their favorite hiding place, seeking the place that provided the most protection and comfort from the rest of the world.

She didn't know when Castle had become her shelter, a fortress that would surround her, keeping her safe within the circle of his arms.

She didn't know when he'd become her home.

All that she knew was that she needed him, would always need him. Perhaps that was why she was still trying to run; she needed to know that the chain that connected them – a connection almost as tangible as the handcuffs that had once joined them– could never break, could never be torn apart, no matter how hard they pulled, no matter who or what tried to come between them.

She needed to know that_ 'always'_ was real.

And so she was here, staring at a door as if it could give her the answer.

She knew she wouldn't knock. She'd been here too many times; stood and stared at this door, wishing for the strength to lift her fist and strike her knuckles against the hard wood. But each time always remained the same, and all too soon she would return to her own apartment and sink into a restless sleep, made bearable only by the fact that in the morning he would be waiting for her, standing by their desk with a coffee in his hand and welcome in his eyes, smiling that smile that he saved only for her.

She'd come to depend on that smile. She'd come to depend on his presence beside her, upon his support and his friendship, his honesty and his humor, his loyalty... and his love. Her life belonged to him; it was a truth she'd known, yet refused to acknowledge, for a long time. The only step that remained was to let him know it too.

And she would. Sooner or later, the right time would come. A minute from now, a year from now... eventually, all the pieces would fall into place, and they would just know. And finally, they would be ready.

But this, it seemed, was not that moment. Taking a step back from the door, Beckett turned, leaving behind the silent loft and the man who would continue to sleep soundly within it, never knowing that she was ever here.

###

He was spending a lot of time staring at doors tonight.

Glancing at the steadily decreasing numbers as the elevator descended from one of the upper floors, Castle sighed softly, pulling one hand from his pockets to rub at his forehead, as if the movement could simply rub all thoughts of her out of his brain.

The elevator doors before him were highly polished steel, and behind them lay the final stretch of his journey home; the final step to warmth, comfort, familiarity, a king-sized bed and the promise of a few hours' escape into deep, dreamless sleep– yet it was a completely different door that still occupied his thoughts, one that would open in his mind, revealing his partner standing in the doorway, her soft lips parted slightly in surprise but her brilliant eyes already alight with warmth and welcome.

He was still lost in that image when the elevator gave a somewhat triumphant-sounding _ding!_, the familiar sound immediately succeeded by the smooth retraction of the well-maintained doors, signaling him to step on board.

But he didn't move.

He couldn't.

Because, standing in the elevator– her pose almost exactly mirroring his and her face wearing an near-identical expression of surprise and shock– was Kate Beckett.

A few frozen seconds passed, both of them simply staring wordlessly at one another over the threshold as their minds struggled to catch up. Hers seemed to recover faster; he watched the shock in her eyes morph into something much brighter, saw the tiny upward curve of her mouth in the split second before she began to speak.

"Castle."

Jesus. How she did that, he would never understand. It was only his name, and yet somehow she made it sound like he'd just singlehandedly rescued a bus full of school kids and a litter of puppies all at the same time, and god, it killed him every time.

"Kate," he managed, still half-stuck in the light-headedness that her unexpected presence always evoked in him. His mind was still scrambling, still not quite believing that this was real– that she was truly _here_, standing right there before him, looking at him like he was the only person in her world.

But this was no mirage. This was Kate Beckett, standing in _his_ elevator in _his_ apartment building, and he couldn't remember being happier to see anyone in his life.

###

_Castle._

She had no idea of where he'd just been or why he'd gone; all she knew was that he was standing before her, and that she was irrationally, overwhelmingly glad to see him.

Realizing that she was simply staring at him, Beckett opened her mouth once more to speak– to say what, she wasn't quite sure– but was cut off by a cautionary _ding!_ as the doors began to slide resolutely closed.

In a swift, synchronized move, both of them threw out their right hands, each forcing back one of the doors as the elevator dinged again, more insistently this time.

Looking up, she caught his gaze again, shifting slightly closer as she braced herself against the straining door. For a brief moment more, they were both silent, ignoring the elevator's continued protests as unspoken questions were asked and answered.

"I thought you were asleep in bed," she said eventually, her tone dancing the line between explanation and apology, her cheeks warming slightly as she flushed.

Castle inclined his head slightly, giving the shadow of a nod. "I thought you were too."

Distracted by the depth of emotion in his eyes, it took her a moment to process his words, to realize their meaning. Inhaling softly, she voiced her realization, seeking the confirmation she already knew she would receive.

"You went to my apartment."

At his nod, she felt her heart stutter, a new, heightened mixture of emotions rising within her. For a moment she was silent, biting her lower lip as her mind raced with the implications of everything that had been said, and everything that remained unspoken.

Her hand subconsciously tightening on the elevator door, she spoke again, her voice soft.

"Why?"

Castle tilted his head just a fraction, the shadow of a smile forming on his face as he looked down at her.

"Why are _you_ here?" he asked back, his voice equally soft.

Beckett faltered, blinking a few times as her eyes darted away and then back again, feeling like a wild animal caught in the headlights of a semi, too frozen to know how to save herself. In her panic, she almost resorted to the incredibly mature _I asked you first_, but the tenderness in his eyes stopped her, gave her the strength to at least try to give him the answer he deserved.

"I... I just..."

_I just wanted to be with you, or even near to you, because whenever I'm away from you I feel like part of me is missing, and every time that happens I'm terrified that I'll never get it back._

Pausing, she sucked in a deep breath. She couldn't do it. The words lodged in her throat, and no matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn't get them out.

She just couldn't say it; not only did it sound like a line from some cheesy romance film, but it was entirely too true, too real. Lifting her eyes back to his, she held his gaze almost pleadingly, silently telling him all that her words could not.

His eyes met hers squarely, and for a moment he simply stared back at her, his gaze level and expressive. Then, the corner of his mouth quirked just slightly, and– ignoring another irritated _ding_ from the elevator– he gave her a small, understanding nod.

"I know," he murmured quietly, and she could see it in his eyes that he did, that he understood exactly what she meant and how she felt.

_Because he feels it too._

Her heart began beating faster, its rhythm growing erratic as she stared up at him, realizing that they had finally reached that one definitive moment; that– after all this time– they were finally on the same page.

And as the realization dawned, she felt the last pieces begin falling into place.

###

He doubted that his heart rate would ever return to normal.

The look in her eyes as she tried to explain why she was here... she'd _never_ looked at him like that, like she was still looking at him now– like she had opened that impregnable vault inside her heart and laid all her secrets out for him to see.

And he'd done the same. For months and months they'd stubbornly suppressed their true feelings– granted, with differing levels of success– and yet suddenly one simple question was able to bring their carefully-constructed defenses crashing down, their whole façade crumbling to pieces, leaving them both stripped bare.

God, how much had they just admitted?

And how much more was he willing to reveal?

Somehow, he thought he knew.

"I'm not sure I can handle this much longer, Kate," he began, his voice low, honest, his eyes still holding hers. Then, looking at her almost beseechingly– desperately hoping she would feel the same– he asked quietly, "It's getting harder, isn't it?"

Swallowing, she nodded– _oh god, she nodded–_ then lowered her eyes briefly, drawing in a long, slow breath.

"God, I'm so tired, Castle."

Castle felt his breath catch in his throat at her soft admission, his hand gripping the elevator door tightly enough to send sharp daggers of pain shooting up his fingers and into his arm, but he barely noticed, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that bordered on desperation.

Three years ago, those words would have meant exactly what they said. A year ago, they would have meant _Leave it alone_, _let me go. _But now– after all they'd been through, and how much it had cost them to get here– they held a wholly different meaning.

_I can't fight it anymore. I can't keep running. _

Reeling, Castle tore his gaze away from hers, his head overcome with a dizzying lightness that was most assuredly due to her words and to his subsequently paralyzed lungs.

Blinking rapidly, his gaze flitted all around her, somehow unable to meet those eyes, to see the depth of meaning and emotion within her gaze.

It was then– in that brief, breathless moment where both coherent thought and gravity had seemingly ceased to exist– that he suddenly saw it.

_Walls._

The walls of the elevator surrounded her, a reinforced fortress that only she occupied, the rest of the world sealed safely outside.

And yet, here they were, on either side of the threshold, so close that he could easily reach out and touch her– and she was holding the door open for him.

_She was letting him in._

Instantly, his eyes found hers, a turbulent storm of hope and fear and love and anxiety and a hundred other emotions all swirling through him, a single unspoken question reverberating in the air between them.

He watched intently as she bit her lip, her eyes mirroring everything he was feeling. And then slowly– tentatively– her free hand lifted, her fingers pausing to lightly caress his cheek before her hand slid back to curl around the back of his neck, her body drawing in closer to his.

Propped in the middle of the elevator doorway, the two of them looked at each other, knowing that this was the point of no return. Any further, and they would be over that cliff, falling hard together, with no way back and no safety net below.

Looking down at her, Castle hesitated. Literally inches from everything he had ever wanted, and suddenly he was afraid, afraid to take that final step, to let them fall. If they did this, if they dove into it now and she wasn't truly ready...

"Kate..." he began, but before he could say anything more, her lips were on his, and suddenly, somehow, he forgot all about his worry.

In fact, he forgot all about anything else but her.

Lifting his free hand, he buried his fingers in her hair, his mouth fusing against hers as the kiss immediately began to build, growing hungrier, more insistent; a paradox of tenderness and fire that had his heart pounding wildly against his ribcage, his mind suddenly devoid of all coherent thought. Then her lips parted under his, hungry and urgent, her body pressing closer as she deepened the kiss, and he felt like he might pass out from sensory overload, his entire body on fire for her.

Gripping the elevator door like it was the only thing anchoring him to solid ground, Castle kissed her hard, a low moan rumbling in his throat as she met fire with fire, kissing him back so passionately that he knew she'd been dying to do this just as much as he had.

Cradling her head, he explored her mouth, tasting and taking and simply reveling in the feel of her. Breaking away for air, he lowered his lips to her neck, hearing her breathless moan beside his ear as he trailed hot kisses over the sensitive skin of her throat. A moment later the gentle pressure of his teeth had her gasping and tensing against him, before her fingers slid upwards to fist in his hair, dragging his head up to capture his mouth once more with hers.

Her kiss was hot, fierce, with an erotically proprietary edge to it that made him feel simultaneously like he couldn't handle any more, and that he could never get enough. Taking her lead, he held nothing back– the time for that was long gone now– kissing her as he'd dreamed of kissing her for years; without hesitation or restraint, discovering her and devouring her, setting her aflame with a fire that would only burn for him.

Just as he was thinking that he couldn't possibly hold on to the goddamn door any longer– one hand was simply not enough when he wanted to touch her _everywhere_– she pulled abruptly away, her eyes opening to fix on his, the two of them panting against each other's lips as they struggled for breath.

A beat passed and yet her eyes didn't waver from his, her gaze stark and aroused and full of emotions that he wasn't sure he dared put a name to. He stared back, breathless and light-headed, his lips throbbing and his heart thudding painfully in his chest as he waited for her to speak.

"Castle," was all she said, her voice a low, husky whisper, roughened with emotion and desire.

And then she simply stepped back, and pulled him over the threshold.

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><p><em>Well, that was it. I really hope you enjoyed it, and if you have any comments or suggestions for improvement, please let me know– I know that I've gotten a little rusty over my writing hiatus, so I'm counting on you guys to help me get back into shape.<em>

_Thanks for reading!_


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